The Bees

 

I was recently reminded of an elderly man who frequented the little cafe where I worked as a newlywed.

Gabe was the epitome of the dirty old man. He smelled like old french fry grease and too much cologne, wore stained and dirty overalls and a blue work shirt and had a shredded straw panama hat that had probably been new when Roosevelt was president.

He came in every day for lunch and had a Reuben Sandwich and a Coors Light on tap.

He wasn't afraid to be inappropriate with his words, guessing that we'd just dismiss him as a harmless old fart.
He was mostly right, I laughed at the occasional boob joke and wasn't concerned about my safety. I don't think he was disrespectful, he was just old and unfiltered. He never grabbed or anything.

One day, he struck up a next booth conversation with the elderly lady we privately referred to as The Chili Burrito Lady. She came in at least three times a week, made a big show of looking at the menu, then ordered a chili burrito. Every time. She was small and elegant and white-haired. Always wore a purple coat and a little hat. Her nails were manicured and she wore sensible high heels.

We sort of watched from the kitchen, as we were young and silly and found the idea that Gabe and the Chili Burrito Lady might be getting together romantic and sweet as we were watching.

He ended up moving to her booth and was sitting across from her when their meals were delivered. I checked in on them a couple times, brought another beer for him and another Sprite for her.

They had a nice conversation. As I dropped off their bills (old fashioned green ones that said 'Guest Check') Gabe reached across the table and snagged the one I'd laid in front of her.
"I'll buy your lunch today, Ma'am," he said grandly.

Then, he stood up next to the table in the empty dining room, held his hat to his breast and recited this,

Here is to the honey bee,
With sex so small you cannot see.

But he can tell, and so can she.

The bee is such a busy soul, it has no time for birth control.

And that is why, in times like these, you see so many sons of bees.


The Chili Burrito Lady cackled, Gabe offered her his arm and they left the restaurant.
She was still laughing.

It's funny, I don't usually memorize things after just one recitation, but that one has stuck with me for awhile. That was 1981.